


Christmas Special

by waterflower20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fluff, OOCness, mention of PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-11 07:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterflower20/pseuds/waterflower20
Summary: Written as a Christmas gift to meldz - a long time ago.Hermione comes to Forks to get away from the chaos that was her life in London. There, a curious vampire decides Hermione is the best antidote to an otherwise boring little rainy town.





	1. September

_**Disclaimer:**_ I claim no ownership over Harry Potter and/or Twilight.

**A/N:** This story was supposed to be a Christmas gift to one of my reviewers in ffn, thus the title. 

Since AO3 is much more user friendly, I think I will be crossposting some of my stories here as well.

 

_**Christmas Special** _

 

**September 12th September, 2004**

Impulsiveness had never been a part of Hermione Granger's meticulously organized life; she made lists of pros and cons before making any decision, and always made sure to have at  _least_ three alternate plans customized for any possible outcome, before embarking on any endeavour, be it something as trivial as a holiday trip, or planning on surviving out in the wild for months while trying to overthrow a maniacal dictator hell bent on killing her best friend. One could say that Hermione Granger would implode if anything in her carefully scheduled life went awry, but her friends knew better.

Indeed Hermione operated better with a plan, but she was also quick on her feet; a quality that would have made her an excellent Auror if only she was so inclined. Harry himself could attest to that; after all, he had survived long enough to finish Voldemort off only thanks to Hermione's forethought, her quick thinking even in stressful situations,  _and_ her ability to remain ration in the direst circumstances.

That was who she was, and Harry loved her for it.

So, to say he was shocked at her actions at the moment would be an understatement.

After her disastrous relationship with Ron, he'd never believe his sensible friend to make another rushed, half-brained decision like this! Eyes wide behind his spectacles, Harry watched as his best friend calmly set another bundle of neatly folded clothes in her suitcase; her school trunk laid at the foot of her bed, already packed to bursting point. Her demeanor was relaxed but guarded as if she was afraid of his reaction, but determined to go through with her inane plan.

“It's not like we won't be seeing each other ever again,” she was saying, her tone soothing. It was hard to miss the tension simmering in the room, and she was obviously doing her best to diffuse the situation before he erupted. “I'll make sure to purchase an owl after I settle it, so we can communicate that way, and I'll make sure the estate agent will find me a place with a fireplace. Getting an approval to connect it to their floo network might take some time though; God knows the Congress is worst than the Ministry with paperwork, but we can always visit each other with Port keys. I'm sure Harry Potter won't have a problem getting an authorised Port Key every other month, so it's really not _that_ big of a deal – “

“Merlin's sagging balls, woman, stop talking!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

Hermione froze, her fingers tightening on the wine red sweater she was holding; she did not turn to face him, but her back was tensed. For a few short moments, neither of them spoke, the silence only broken by Harry's harsh breathing.

“Why –“ he stopped, shutting his eyes to reign in his temper. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared at her searchingly. “ _Why_ are you doing this?”

“You know why.”

“Ron – “

“Ron has very little to do with my decision, Harry,” she cut him off, annoyance clearat his insinuation.

“But you two – “

“We tried, Harry,” she murmured, dropping the sweater in her suitcase and finally turning to face him. “We gave it our best shot, but we… We just don't click.”

“You love each other.”

“Sometimes love isn't enough,” she said sadly, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek. “I love you both _so much_ , but I need to do this, Harry.”

“Why?” he repeated quietly, hating himself for his weakness. He knew he wasn't being fair to Hermione; she had sacrificed so much to stay by his side during the war, she'd risked her life for him more than once, and stood by him despite everything even when Ron had bailed. Not once had she asked him for anything in return, so why was it so difficult for him now to do the right thing by her?

He knew she wasn't happy, and hadn't be for a long time; it wasn't just the heavy cloud of the war's aftermath hanging around them all, but her stubborn refusal to visit a Mind Healer as well.

Like her, Harry had refused to visit a Healer at first, determined to fight his demons alone, but after breaking down during an operation two months into his Auror training, Robards had ordered him to attend regular meetings with Healer Jenkins, a renown Mind Healer who had studied phychology both in the wizarding and Muggle worlds, if he wanted to be an Auror.

After his prerequisite counselling sessions were done, Harry continued to meet with Healer Jenkins every month, and strongly encouraged Hermione to do so as well, but she'd refused. Quite adamantly.

He had hoped she'd find some peace after she finally located her parents in Sydney, but Mr and Mrs Granger weren't so inclined to forgive their daughter for erasing their memories and uprooting them across the world without giving them a chance to decide their own fate; they felt Hermione had violated them by taking away their free will.

Their relationship was strained to say the least, and Hermione kept her distance even after her parents' return to England.

Now, if the witch had been allowed to deal with her issues privately, Harry had no doubt she wouldn't be running across the Atlantic, but Hermione had not been afforded that simple luxury.

A War Hero, the most famous Muggle-born, _and_ Harry Potter's best friend, and former flame – according to Rita Skeeter – was a source of much juicy gossip in the months and years following the rebuild of their world. Still struggling with her demons, Hermione had been forced to live under the spotlight, having her every word and action picked apart and judged by every witch and wizard with a subscription to _The Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly._ Every half step forward she managed in her efforts to eradicate prejudice and pass more humane laws about magical creatures, meant another month of articles printed about her sleeping her way to the top or screwing the Saviour behind his girlfriend's back.

“You know why, Harry,” she repeated, dropping her hand and taking a step back. “I can't keep living like this.”

“We can apply for a super injunction – “

“That will take months, and it won't solve the problem. Not really. I just – “ she closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her temples, “I just need to not be _Hermione-Granger-War-Hero_ for a little while. I need to be able to take a walk and not have people stare at me, and gossip behind my back. I need a _normal_ life.”

“But you aren't normal, Hermione. You are a witch, and a prominent one at that.”

“I know! I _**know**_ I'm famous for something good, I know people look up to me, and I'd be okay with that, with working for bettering our world, but it's not just that now, is it?” She carded a hand through her hair, pulling at the strands. “I can't go out to dinner with you, or Ron, or Neville, or a friend who _happens_ to be male, without the tabloids portraying it as something lewd and running articles about me supposedly stringing along half a dozen men! I can't have a friendly chat with Kingsley or Arthur, or – and especially! – you in the Ministry, without having my co-workers assume I'm sucking up to the boss, or using my connection to you and my 'fame' to advance my career! I can't got out on a date without a voice in my head asking me if the guy's really interest in me, _or being seen with me!”_

“Don't you think it's the same for me?” he asked, a dose of accusation lacing his tone. “Don't you think it's the same for Ron?”

“No, it's not, Harry,” she denied, pointing a finger at him. “You don't get called a slut, a harlot, a home-wrecker whenever your picture shows up on the front page of a magazine with a witch. People don't send you hate mail for supposedly stringing along your best friends! Every articled written about you doesn't start with pointing out your flaws, or who you dated last week! You don't get criticized and ridiculed for wearing unflattering clothes or your hair decided not to behave that day! For Merlin's sake, I passed Moony's Law single-handed last week, and it was not mentioned in any of the articles written about me! They were more concerned with my romantic life and how I'm handling my break up with Ron, than my accomplishments!”

“I know – “

“I can't do this anymore,” she insisted, taking deep breaths. “I can't, and I won't.”

“But, Hermione – “

“No,” she cut him off. “This isn't about you, Harry. This is about me, and my needs.”

“But you haven't thought this through, not really – “

“So what?” she snapped, withdrawing her wand from her back pocket, and pointing it at her stuff. _“Pack!”_

“You don't need to go to America to leave all this behind!”

“I know I don't, but I want to.”

“Hermione, what you need – “

“Don't tell me what I need, Harry James Potter!” she finally snapped, fed up with the situation. For days Harry had been trying to convince her she was making a mistake, and trying to dissuade her, without once thinking what was best for her! She had had enough! “This is not your decision to make! I didn't ask your permission, and I don't expect you to understand why I'm doing this, but after everything we've been through, the least I was expecting was your support!”

“I – “

“You don't need to agree with my decision,” she said, her wand loosely held in her hand. “But you have to accept it's mine to make.”

“Even though I think you're making a mistake?”

“I'm an adult, Harry. I've lived through a war. If I'm making a mistake, so what? After everything, don't you think I deserve to make some mistakes? I'm only human after all.”

 

**xxXxx**

 

**30th September, 2004**

“It took me a while to figure it out, I haven't met one before you see, so I was doubting myself, but now… Now I know.”

“Know what?”

“You are a witch.”

“You are a vampire.”

“What?”

“I'm sorry, I thought we were playing 'State the obvious'. Was I wrong?”

“… I like you.”

“What ar – _Stop sniffing me!_ What are you, a dog?”

“You smell funny.”

“Witch, remember?”

“So that's what magic smells like?”

“ _My_ magic, yes.”

“What?”

“You don't think all wizards and witches smell the same, right?”

“I have never met one, so I wouldn't know.”

“But you _do_ know not all people smell the same, right?”

“Why do I have the feeling you are being condescending right now?”

“Trust that feeling.”

“You are kind of a bitch, huh?”

“No, I just don't care about sparing your feelings. Now, if you aren't buying anything, get out.”

“That's not very good customer service.”

“You are not a customer, you are just an annoying vampire with nothing better to do.”

“Hey! I have plenty to do! I _want_ to be here!”

“Dear Merlin, why?”

“Well, first I was curious about you. I knew you weren't a normal human, but I couldn't figure out exactly what you were. And now that I properly met you, I want to get to know you better.”

“Again… _Why?_ ”

“Told you. I like you.”

“… Please, leave.”


	2. October

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership over Harry Potter and/or Twilight.

 

  _ **October**_

****30th September, 2004** **

“Do you know where Alice is?” Jasper asked the room at large, eyes lingering on the messy haired vampire sitting at the piano bench, furiously writing on a music sheet.

“Probably at the bookstore, stalking the new girl,” Rose offhandedly replied, flipping the page in her car magazine.

“ _Again?”_

“You know Alice, if she gets an idea in her head, she's _unlikely_ to let it go,” Rose said. They all knew she was being kind; if Alice couldn't figure out someone, she'd get obsessed with finding out what made that someone tick. Thank the Lord, their kind possessed super speed and strength, so more often than not Alice managed not to get caught when she went snooping in someone's house; the pixie like vampire just didn't seem to care that getting caught breaking and entering was definitely a no-no if you were trying to go unnoticed. Not that they managed that, what with their unique looks and eternal youth, but they had realised pretty early on that if you kept to yourself most of the time and didn't get involved in any drama, humans tended to leave you be after a while.

And although most of them were content with always staying in the outskirts of human society, for someone like Alice, staying away from gossip and teenage drama was torture. Where was the fun in eternity if you couldn't partake in some day to day human ridiculousness?

“You've got to admit the girl is a little… peculiar,” Edward murmured, frowning at his music sheet. He'd been composing like crazy lately, and that meant he was more irritable than usual.

“Just because she doesn't think you are God's gift to women doesn't make her peculiar.” Rose snarked, an amused tilt to her lips.

Predictably, that earned her brother's full attention.

“That is not why I find her weird, and you know it,” he told her, glaring for good measure.

“Hmm.”

He gritted his teeth.

“I told you, her mind is _different_.”

“How?”

“I can't explain how!” he shouted, clearly exasperated. In all his years as a vampire, Edward had never encountered a mind like Hermione Granger's; he could say for certain that she wasn't a vampire, but he had his doubts about her being human as well. “Her thoughts… I can't hear them unless I focus on her. And then… I just…”

“… Just?” Jasper prodded carefully.

Since her arrival in Forks nearly a month ago, Hermione Granger had been a constant presence in their lives without physically being there.

It all started when Esme dropped off a casserole at Mrs Marshall's bookstore for the elderly owner; Hermione had been there in her stead, and had kindly offered to deliver the casserole to her boss. Alice, who had been with Esme, took an immediate liking to the girl (“Isn't her accent _to die for?!”_ ) and decided to be the new girl's friend.

Hermione had not being happy about that development.

“There's… _Interference_.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, agitated. “The minute I manage to access her thoughts, it's like an alarm goes off and I'm… blocked. It's like… Like… “

“She knows you are there,” Jasper whispered. The two male vampires locked eyes across the room.

“… Yeah.”

“That's impossible,” Rose sneered, finally closing her magazine.

“Clearly not.” Edward arched an eyebrow at her, mouth tight.

“Alice can't see her future,” Jasper said, breaking their glaring match.

“What?”

“She tried, but she says all she gets is a blank.”

“Maybe she dies soon,” Rose caustically said. “That would explain it.”

“Since Alice has been trying to catch a glimpse into her future for weeks now, and Miss Granger is _clearly_ alive and well, I'd say that's pretty unlikely.”

“Well – “

“Give it a rest, Rose,” Edward snapped.

Eyes flashing, she bared her teeth at him. A wave of soothing calm enveloped her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Stop that,” she hissed at Jasper. “I wasn't going to do anything!”

“Tell that to the last _ten_ flat screens you chucked at Edward's head.”

“He had it coming.” Petulantly.

“I did _not_.” Defensively.

“Why do I even bother?” Fed up.

 xxXxx

**Later that day**

“She's a witch!”

“That's not a nice thing to say about someone, Alice.” Esme gently admonished.

“No, Esme,” Edward said, face tight with worry. “She means it literally.”

A moment of shocked silence.

“You are joking!”

“A real witch?”

“Are you okay?” Jasper asked anxiously, grasping her bony shoulders and looking her over. He might not know much about witches, but he knew their kind didn't mingle with vampires. “Did she hurt you?”

“No, of course not,” Alice batted a dismissive hand, excitement making her golden eyes sparkle. “She's not like that.”

“Alice, her kind hates us,” Edward murmured, crossing his arms. “They hunt us for sport.”

“Not all people are the same, Ed.” His sister chirped, a tinkling laugh escaping her. “We are living proof that there are always exceptions to the rule.”

“And how do you know she's the exception and not the rule?” Rose hissed, her hands on her hips, murder in her eyes.

Alice's eyes unfocused for a second, and then she _moved_. Rose found herself thrown across the room, eyes startled at Alice's rare show of temper.

“Don't you dare lay a finger on her, Rose, or I swear to God, I'll make you wish you were never born,” the petite vampire snarled, eyes blackening and teeth flashing.

“Down, tiger,” Emmett intervened, moving to help his mate up from the floor, and shielding her behind his enormous form. His usually cheeky grin had faded, his face grim as he sized the petite vampire up; he loved Alice as a sister, but Rose was his mate. No one touched her and got away with it. “Rose's just looking out for us.”

“Hermione is no threat to us.”

“How do you know, Alice?” Edward asked softly. “You can't see her future.”

At her furious glance, he rolled his eyes.

“No, I'm not taking Rose's side,” he answered her thoughts. “I'm asking you a valid question.”

“I might not be able to _see_ Hermione's future, but I can see ours. And guess what? We are alive and well.” 

“Rose, stand down,” Carlisle finally intervened, his tone commanding. The statuesque blonde, still fuming, obeyed instantly, dragging Emmett with her to reclaim her seat at the love seat. Jasper needed to pull Alice to the sofa, and after she sat, he threw an arm around her shoulders, both to calm and restrain her if necessary.

Edward and Esme remained standing, both ready to hold the two angry females back if another fight broke out.

“This is a serious matter, Alice.” Their father and coven leader took the armchair closer to the fireplace, facing them all. “We might not know much about the wizarding kind, but we know vampires are not welcomed in their enclaves. Most of them are content with simply ignoring our existence, and letting the Volturi govern us as they see fit as long as we keep our existence secret, but like Edward said, there are some who views us as animals, and hunts us down for sport. Our lives mean nothing to them; we are prey, a way to boost their egos.”

“Have you ever met anyone, Carlisle?” Emmett asked, curiosity evident on his face.

“No.” The elder vampire shook his head. “But I heard Aro speak of one of them, when I was in Volterra. A Mr Spavin if I'm not mistaken. I think he was a member of their government, who didn't particularly care for the Volturi. Aro had sent him a gift you see, a priceless one if you were to believe the servants, and Mr Spavin had sent it back without even a thank you note.” 

“And Aro let his rudeness slide?” Esme asked, intrigued. Carlisle rarely spoke of his time with the Volturi; it wasn't that he regretted his time there, Aro had been more than generous with him, but their disagreement on their respective lifestyles had driven a wedge between them. Aro's blood brother, Caius, had hated Carlisle from the moment the fair haired vampire had set foot on Volterra and thought the Cullens abnormal and refused to speak of them.

“What could he do?” he asked rhetorically. “Yes, a vampire might be able to overpower a wizard with our speed, we might even manage to kill one, but at what cost? Their entire community will see it as an attack on them, and will come at us full force. One on one, we might stand a chance, but against thousands upon thousands of magic users? Our kind would be dead before we know it.”

“Do you think they'll attack us if Hermione tells them we are here?” Rose asked, refusing to look at Alice.

“I told you – “

“Alice.”

She closed her mouth, hands curling into tiny fists.

“Yes,” Carlisle answered her. “If Miss Granger feels threatened by us, they will come for us.”

“What will we do then?” Esme asked, fearfully.

“I don't know.”

“I told you, you needn't worry about Hermione!” Alice insisted. “If you don't believe me,” she continued, curbing Edward's protest, “look for yourself.”

A barrage of thoughts and memories blasted in his mind; his head ringing, he tried to focus on one memory at a time, clawing through them as Alice kept bombarding him with her thoughts. Alice had been holding out on him it seemed since he could now see she had her suspicions about Hermione's true identity for days now and hadn't said anything.

“Will you stop that?” he barked, his eyes closing against the onslaught. “Slow the _fuck_ down!”

“Language!”

Biting down on another swear, Edward gritted his teeth, almost sighing aloud when Alice's attack eased. Carefully, thoroughly, he sorted through each individually memory (God, did she really follow the girl around, like a stalker?), before he opened his eyes.

“See?” Alice asked softly. “She's different.”

Frowning at her, Edward let his arms drop to his sides.

“Edward?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted, ignoring his sister's growl of frustration. “She probably knew what we were from the beginning, yet she doesn't seem afraid. I think she's more annoyed at Alice for stalking her – “

“I am not _stalking_ her – “

“Yeah, you are, honey.” Jasper patted her arm, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You are creepy like that, but don't worry, I still love you.”

“– than our presence here,” Edward concluded, ignoring the couple's antics.

None spoke for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, it was Emmett who broke the silence.

“So, what do we do now?”

 xxXxx

**1 st October, 2004**

**Earley morning**

“I told you not to do that.”

“Shut up.”

“I can't believe she turned you into a toad!” Emmett guffawed, slapping a hand on his knee as he struggled to breathe.

“How conventional of her,” Rose said, a tiny smirk curling her lips. Edward's skin still had a distinctive green tint, and he didn't seem able to walk straight.

“I can hear your thoughts, you know,” he snarled, his voice coming out croaky. He visibly shuddered.

“I have your little adventure on video, you know,” she replied tauntingly, waving her phone at him with a nasty smirk. “Behave, or Eleazar will get a copy of this.”

“You wouldn't _dare_.”

“Try me, toad-boy.”

“Stop squabbling, children,” Alice interfered, patting Edward's shoulder without making eye contact. Her whole body was shaking with the effort not to laugh.

“Can any one you hear what's going on in the cottage?” Jasper asked, anxiously.

Instead of ambushing her at her place of work, they had decided to visit, unannounced, Hermione's house, a small cottage near the river that was the natural border with the Quileute land. In all their planning however, not one of them had thought that she might have installed magical protection around her place of residence.

Edward had been the one to figure that one out when he'd sneaked in, using a cracked open window downstairs to get in the house; the second his foot had touched the carpet, his whole body had seized up, and he'd fallen face firston the floor of the spacious living room – _too_ spacious if you asked him, for the cottage was positively tiny from the outside. When he came to, he'd found himself facing an enraged witch, a thin piece of wood pointed at him.

 _Um, that must be her wand,_ he'd thought before he found himself encased in a bright indigo light, and started shrinking. Blinking, he'd looked up, terrified, as the brunette witch – a smug smile directed at him, – had reached down, picked him up and unceremoniously tossed him outside the window, before closing and locking it. 

Immediately after, the cottage started simmering, the windows and doors cracking, and the air surrounding the cottage had started vibrating as the witch obviously reinforced her house's defenses.

A fact that did not bode well for their family's well-being.

Carlisle had not being pleased when Jasper had called to inform him of their failed plan; not only had they made the risky decision on their own without consulting him or Esme, but they had screwed up royally.

It had taken him fifteen minutes of apologising for their actions before Hermione – who had seemed more annoyed than angry, – had allowed him in the house. Five minutes later, she had stomped out, turned Edward back to normal, and returned inside, banging the door shut without a word.

“I'm sure it's some kind of spell to keep from being eavesdropped,” Esme hypothesized, eerily calm given the circumstances. _We can't_ _condemn_ _her_ _for not trusting us,_ she thought when she noticed Edward watching her. C _atching you breaking into her house isn't the best first impression, I'm afraid._

“It's not like I was planning to _spy_ on her – “

“That's _exactly_ what we were planning to do though.”

“Alice, I know you didn't approve of this, but for the love of God, _shut up!_ ”

Sticking her tongue at him, Alice clasped her hands behind her back, eyes on the cottage.

“You know as well as I do that she poses a danger we can't ignore,” he continued.

“And that's what she's presently discussing with Carlisle, I'm sure,” Esme reassured them, although it was obvious she was growing nervous as more time passed with no sight of Carlisle.

“There's nothing to worry about, Esme,” Alice repeated for the hundredth time. “Hermione won't hold this against us.”

“How can you be so fucking sure?” Rose yelled, exasperated. “You had, what, two, three conversations with her? How can you be sure she's not in there torturing Carlisle? Or calling her friends to kill us all?”

Face contorting in anger, Alice turned to her sister, ready to argue. Sensing her thoughts, Edward suddenly appeared by her side.

“Careful, Alice,” he murmured, touching her shoulder. “Some things you say, you cannot take back.”

Eyes locking with his, the small vampire visibly deflated.

_Sorry._

“Arguing won't solve our problem,” he said as if nothing had happened. “We screwed up. Now, all we can do is wait.”

After ten minutes of silent observation, Rosalie finally spoke.

“What if she doesn't trust us?”

“Then, we'll do what she asks us to make her feel comfortable,” their mother said flatly.

“Leave you mean,” Rosalie elaborated bitterly.

“If that's what it takes, yes,” Esme murmured.

“This is _our_ home,” Rose whispered angrily. “We were here first!”

“That won't matter, sweetheart… We can always come back when she leaves.”

“It'll be okay,” Alice insisted. “You'll see.”

 

 **A/N:** I admit, Edward teasing Alice about stalking Hermione was a direct dig on his book counterpart; I tried not to, but the opportunity was too good to pass up!

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited, so sorry for the mistakes.


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